


Get a Handle on Myself

by MarvelouslyMadMM



Category: Black Panther (2018), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bucky Barnes Gets a Hug, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Comfort Food, Food Porn, Hurt/Comfort, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Other, Read the summary for warnings by chapter, Recovery, Roma Bucky, ScentMates, Scents & Smells, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-29 10:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelouslyMadMM/pseuds/MarvelouslyMadMM
Summary: An ABO remix of "Can I Keep Him?" Because let's be real, T'chucky was never enough for me, not after M'Baku ruined my life completely. No one was prepared for that man, and he totally was not prepared for the King's new little brother. Except he has a brain and a nose. He knows that what T'challa feels is not brotherly love. And he knows just how to make the man react.Unfortunately, it is also making him react too. Well. If T'challa insists on staying his brother, he may have to keep the little wolf all to himself then.





	1. Bucky Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gothic_Lolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothic_Lolita/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Can I Keep Him?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792266) by [Gothic_Lolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothic_Lolita/pseuds/Gothic_Lolita). 



> Welcome to the first chapter. Unbeta'd. Bucky is recovering from being unmade, from being deprogrammed and is an omega in distress. Parts of this could be seen as consent muddling, however everyone involved is entirely aware of this and there is no way in hell anything sexy will happen until long after they have all recovered and talked it out. If at some point they actually skirt the line I may add a warning for that. 
> 
> Bucky loses himself in sensory feedback, and issues of PTSD and triggers are handwaved at- be aware if it might be an issue. 
> 
> 1st chapter is in Bucky POV, 2nd will be in M'Baku's... debating on if I do a Shuri version. We shall see.

Bucky’s first day out of cryo is filled with whirling motion and a cheerful young woman’s voice telling him to stay still if he wants to keep the use of his tongue. His request to have soft hoops to grip onto with his toes and fingers instead of being strapped down had been accommodated, and he appreciated the lemon flavored chew stick in his mouth almost as much. It tasted nothing like the other mouthguard, felt nothing like it. The voice still terrifies him a little, and while part of him is tense, another part of him is relaxed despite it all. The lyrical accent and arching curves are nothing like HYDRA or the Red Room, nothing like anything but the fantastic books of his childhood. He expects Buck Rogers himself to come racing in at any moment.

 

His eyes stay open and staring up at the lights above him when the hologram of his own brain moves real time. It flashes and lights up, and each time it does, memories of being broken, of being unmade in dark cells and laboratory benches permeate the air in fresh bursts of distressed scent pouring from his body like so much bile. The crisp bright taste of lemon, chewy not hard plastic, and the soft lambs wool like give of his grips are the only thing that keep him from screaming. That and the way the air is warm, and a warm blanket is draped over his legs, different textures over his loose shorts.

 

All of that can’t stop him from whimpering however. Not when he is being unmade again. No matter how kindly or gently. Low sounds caught deep in his throat, not quite whimpers and not quite keens.

 

“You are just the most broken of all white boys, aren’t you?” The voice asks mostly rhetorically, a sad note in her voice when he whimpers again with a sudden ping of fear, he knows, he knows she isn’t doing anything but helping him be free, however nothing can stop the way each memory makes his nerves feel ghosts of their creation, makes his mind reel, tears and sweat mixing at the edge of his hairline as he blinks rapidly to clear his vision and deny the weakness if only to himself.

 

A soft hand, small and gentle, the palm the same color as his father’s skin under his shirts but soft like his baby sister’s before she started helping Ma with the cleaning, smoothed over his brow. “Hey, you sure you want to do this all at once? You may be a fierce white wolf, but you are not going to be seen as anything less for spacing this out.” Bucky knows not to look at a face during this process. He knows. He somehow doesn’t look at her, at the voice, the person unmaking him. He instead tugs the soft loops, tapping the metal tip of his shoulder to the touch plate. Two taps, NO.

 

The hand sweeps back his hair, and he stares up at his brain, at the thing far more broken than his body could be. Ever was. He whimpers again, and his palm opens, thumb caught on the hoop as he flaps it, grabby hand and come on get on with it all at once. She huffs “You are a puppy. A big dumb puppy of a wolf cub. How do you even manage that, you aren’t even looking at me and I can feel your puppy eyes.” He wants to smile or laugh, but instead he whines long and low, eyes watering again.

 

She doesn’t stop again. She doesn’t make him do this any longer than necessary, doesn’t make him space this out and he knows in his bones that if he let go or tapped out or spat out the bit it would all stop and no one would judge him. No one but himself. They wouldn’t blame him. They wouldn’t even blame him if because he delayed finishing he got triggered and activated and did something to harm someone. It was that last part that made him work his fingers into the plush soft feel of the strap, toes curling and fist tight, heels digging into soft padded cradles as he remembered the saw and the train and the rusted edges of the carriage as he is dragged away from the river and the train line above-

 

He lost sight of the hologram, he lost sight of anything but that moment. The moment he left being a human, being a beta, being a man behind. The moment he became a possession. The moment they sunk the straps into his flesh and bound him to the yoke forever. Except he healed. He always healed and fighting in the straps was impossible. Except he was broken and even the serum could not fix that, could not fix part of him being missing.

 

Bucky had been unmade into raw material for over a decade in a base in the basements of Mother Russia. He had been forged into a fist, a weapon, in the five decades that followed. In the course of less than a single day, all of the triggers and codes and unmaking and reforging was undone. He wasn’t untempered materials, but he wasn’t the Fist. He wasn’t Asset yet he wasn’t James Buchanan Barnes as he was before. His chest hurt and his entire body trembled as he became aware of it in slow breaths, a broad palm, large and hot, rested on his chest, another on his belly, coaxing him to breathe. There had been a roaring tumbling blur of sound and conversation, of voices but it all was a slurry of sensations he could not choke down and digest. Only the touch mattered as it dragged him into his body, anchored him in the now.

 

Bucky couldn’t muster the energy to panic, that wasn’t the girl doc, but his head was pounding and it felt like cotton in his mind. He didn’t look at the man, eyes staying closed. He was his own. He was his own. He was the only person to own him. He is sluring sounds and they might be his thoughts or just sounds.

 

“Of course, little puppy, we only own ourselves. You are the only one that will ever own you from now on.” The voice rumbles and is deep like a mountain could talk. Bucky wants to look at the man, with hands so large they span his waist and pectoral entirely, each a huge furnace warming his skin. It sounds like a vow or a promise. It sounds like an oath. It makes Bucky’s stomach flutter and fresh tears leak from his eyes.

 

There is a faint scuffling, but the small hand returns. “Sleep, little wolf, you are safe now.” He trusts that voice. He trusts her. And he is so very tired. “Nom’re-n’m’rehur’ing?” he manages, he has to be sure. He has to be sure he won’t hurt anyone.

 

The small hand is joined by another and another, hands so soft grounding him. “No, little brother. No more hurting. No more hurting others or being hurt, no more will others force you to be or do or say or think anything.”

 

Bucky can’t be sure if he sobs or just exhales, but he is floating after that. Cradled and safe and held so gently. He thinks it might be a memory, of when his father was alive so long ago. Of when he was small and safe and nothing could hurt him. He nuzzles into the comfort, leaning to that fierce warmth as he was carried in massive arms.

 


	2. M'Baku finds a Puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am not saying that maybe M'Baku has lost his damn mind and his heart to this little white boy. But he has never felt his heart flutter like it does when that little chin, with it's soft edge under the line of a stubbled jaw, tucks into his side and nuzzles there, rooting innocently to get more of what must be a calming scent. His scent. 
> 
> If T'challa doesn't realize that this boy is very much not his brother, M'Baku will do his very best to tempt the boy to come home with him. It's that or go to war for him, and that is almost as foolish as the Panther King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING- Heads up-  
> Discussion of old torture and the fact that Bucky was POW for Evil Sadistic Nazis Who Have No Morals TM happens within this chapter. BE AWARE folks, and keep yourself safe. It is possible to fridge horror some vaguely Hydra Trash stuff, but I think that kinda goes part and parcel with 70 years POW of an evil Nazi organization. 
> 
> As it will NEVER be gone in in detail in the main story- or possibly ever- I will not tag specifically for it unless asked. But yes Bucky was tortured and yes he was broken open and unmade through abuse and neglect. He is a smol adorable puppy compared to M'Baku and he dislikes hurting people. Of course later there will be someone doing something extra dumb- like trying to kill T'challa, and M'Baku will fall in love all over again as Bucky disables the attacker before anyone, even the Dora Milaje, can react. Sure it was only knocking him out not killing but that is the kind of strength the Jabari worship in mates. 
> 
> So like, just- be safe folks.

M’Baku is entertained. One might even argue he is far more than simply entertained. The little Panther King was quite unnerved by something not the council meeting they were leaving. M’Baku had a nose. He could smell the way the scent of an omega so perfectly blended with the kitten King’s own scent from much closer than where they had sat in the chamber before. M’Baku took another subtle breath. Yes, it was a complete match. The way T’Challa’s eyes kept moving towards his sister’s labs made M’Baku very sure he knew where this omega was currently. Maybe the omega was helping with the recovery of the strange outsider he had heard whisperings about. An adopted outsider. Claimed as Brother Bond to ensure his safety. Maybe the other outsider had done him harm. Pity he didn’t kill him. Outsiders were dangerous.

The antsy look on the smaller man, a leader no less, was ridiculous. However something nagged at M’Baku as he walked behind T’Challa through the halls, Dora Milaje to either side of them. Fierce enough, these women, that they made M’Baku homesick. It was more than the outsider, if the outsider was there. T’Challa was not acting like a man worried about a mate- or even scenting like he knew he had found his mate. There were no markers for preparing courtship pheromones, nothing but worry. It tasted strange on his tongue. It made no sense. This omega was a perfect match for the King. It slid over his tongue like honey flower petals, slick and light and sweet when he rolled the breath over the back of his throat. It had a kick of some strange spice, possibly cloves. 

M’Baku wondered why the scent was so strange, so different from any he had ever scented. He breathed deeper, letting himself encroach on the smaller Alpha’s presence. He huffed and snorted, sneezing as he shifted back, brows furrowing. Ahh. That explained some of it. T’Challa looked over his shoulder and gave him a slightly perturbed look as they walked into the private chambers for their own personal meeting to discuss the fallout from the recent events. He began to open his mouth and say something, but M’Baku decided to beat him to it. 

“I know you are not Jabari, however you incurred a debt to my tribe.” He said it mildly. He was not dumb. However the little king seemed to be. Brothers. Every single report said he had claimed the outsider as brother. Were all the other tribes really scent blind as an old man? Could none of them truly smell any more? He couldn’t let this stupidity continue. At least not without prodding at it. He fought to keep a smile from his lips as he continued mildly, “I have been told many times about the wonders of your sister’s lab. I want to claim something from it.” He would enjoy playing up the claim if just to mess with them both. Brothers, really. 

T’Challa was obviously still distracted and slightly perturbed. “Your tribe has expressed no desire for our tech, time and again.” He said, eyes finally narrowing slightly as suspicion bloomed in his scent. M’Baku huffed and shook his furs down a little, straightening himself to tower a full seven inches over the King as he crossed his arms. “You deny the debt?” He asked with a deep rumbling voice, brows drawing down in a scowl. 

T’Challa backpedals on that hastily, maneuvering words with all the skill of a boy raised in statecraft as a trade. “Of course I will honor the debt-“ M’Baku pressed the advantage and said firmly “Then we will go now.” 

T’Challa’s scent spiked worried, but still no jealousy or mate protection. Family protection. Ridiculous Panthers. His voice betrayed none of his scent, and if M’Baku did not have a nose he would think nothing of it. “Today is not a good day, but perhaps tomorrow.” He said easily but shortly. M’Baku turned and began to walk towards the lab. “We go now. Your sister will not blow us up. Your outsider is there now, is he not?” 

It was like a symphony of scents, however none of it really came to the King’s face. If M’Baku’s second stank up the room like the kitten was doing, M’Baku would send him to go dunk in the river a dozen times till he learned to control himself. It was incredible. They must be scent blind. And T’Challa was still not showing his mounting worry and frustration on his face. “I do not know how you heard about that, but that is part of why the lab is-“ T’Challa cut off, his beads pinging, and then his sister was saying “He pushed through, but he’s lost, brother, we need you here. I, I can’t-” 

M’Baku snorted and walked faster to the door, sliding it open while the King was distracted. The scent that boiled out however was like nothing the Jabari lord had ever smelled. It was- a nightmare. It was... it was the worst thing imaginable. He didn’t even think about it- his teeth were bared and his entire body grew larger, blood pumping and singing as he thumped his own chest hard once to kick his heart’s ramping cycle up and gave a low roar that rumbled through his chest like the reverberations of a drum. Terror and agony overlaid fear and hopelessness and helplessness in a miasma so thick even the scent blind Panthers, King and guards all in the hall, snarled with him. 

There was an omega being tortured, being hurt so horribly even the very animals themselves would destroy any near it to protect it, let alone human Alphas like they were. M’Baku barely touched steps, charging down the in leaps that cleared entire landings at a time only to be grabbed by the furs and slammed to the wall “NO! M’Baku- he is being healed!” “by torturing him?” He snarled back, Alpha canines glinting and large as he bared his teeth at the King, heedless of social ranking, falling back on instincts far older than the idea of kings. 

T’Challa looked shaken but he pushed himself bodily close, crowding and laying himself along M’Baku’s far larger body, the heart shaped herb the only thing giving him a chance of pinning the larger man in full alpha protective rage. His own panther laced scent was full of grief and worry and resolve and banked stoked anger, but no fear for the omega. No sharp bright fresh rage. M’baku huffed a hard exhale, barking out “What then?” T’Challa closed his eyes and said, “He had something like the heart shaped herb forced on him- and then he was bound in wet leathers. He was broken apart in mind and made a possession. The body healed. The mind- could not. We are fixing his mind. But he had to relive it all to do so.” 

M’Baku’s stomach felt like churning and turning. Wet leather. Quite literally the binding of every gland and pain receptor unique to omegas. That special torment only really worked on the most blessed of omegas. Those personally touched by the gods. And some outsider had warped that, used that forbidden and most awful of tools on another outsider. “They are dead?” his voice was not calm, but the rage he felt was being banked to burn a long time and be left aside for now. “No, that is why we had to fix his mind. They did it, again and again, until mere words could make him feel the yoke. Make him forget anything but obeying whoever it was he saw as holding the reins.” 

The grief and rage is there- it is swamping the little King. It is swamping the air nearly as much as the horror they both feel, nearly enough to drown out the acrid curling tang of something so wrong it made M’Baku want to go out into the world, to gather his tribe and wage war. 

M’Baku set aside his original plan. He had been planning to claim the omega as his prize, make T’Challa angry and jealous, but- he could not. Not now. Not as the feverish slurred mantra of a weak voice trailed up from around the wall. “mfree-‘mmyown-nono-mfree-no’unownsme-mfree” and the low litany of soft whines that spaced between the chant. 

“Get off me.” M’Baku said, faking calm, and forcing his pheromones to reflect calm. Protective and safe. He was no monster. And he was no scentblind panther. The omega smelled of abandonment and isolation, of such aching utter bitter isolation that it alone nearly made M’Baku want to weep. The king may not be a complete fool, this omega had obviously been in no state to even begin to court. M’Baku leapt the last steps, sharing a look with the princess, before moving to the large cradle like bed that was lined with soft furs of a dozen textures. The creamy skin of the omega was as pale as the inside of his palm, not quite the ghostly shade of the pale Everett, but lighter than any person M’Baku had ever personally seen before that. His hair was sweat soaked, but it was obvious it had far more texture than the limp strands on the other outsider, Everett had looked like a weak and pale afterimage- like smoke left after a fire. But this beautiful chest that sheened with sweat, and showed thick roping scars around a metal shoulder? This was like gleaming hammered copper, blended with tin so it was a bit less rosy, however it glowed, even despite obvious signs of illness, signs of deprivation that went far deeper than just the spare muscle and lack of any real softness. That made themselves obvious in how the omega was out of his mind but still arched into the press of his hands as he cupped over the pressure points around the womb and the heart, knowing as all Jabari Lords before him, the old rituals and old ways. 

M’Baku knew why the Panthers had been so willing to embrace this outsider as brother, but he did not think the Panther’s clan, nor the Snake nor Boar nor any of the other clans, whatever they called themselves now, remembered why. “You are safe, Blessed. You are safe with the Mother’s People.” His voice rumbled low and deep, and it seemed to make the omega more aware. The mumbling picked up again, the two Panthers coming closer, and with clarity M’Baku could see the Outsider was also of a clan, though long ago lost to wandering. “Come back to us, little wolf cub. Come back. You belong with us here in the now.” He rumbled gently as his own powerful pulse pressed against slick skin, trading calm and protection for the slowly dissipating terror and isolation. He was pitching his voice to have all the alpha rumble of his own gift, equal in strength but opposite, from the gods. Alphas were many, but Alphas with true blessings were rarer than the treasure that was the blessing of omegas by far. 

But Omegas personally touched by the gods, were sacred. They were the birth of new clans and new peoples. Outsiders, were monsters. They had forgotten the ways far too long ago. And the whimpered slurs tore at M’Baku’s resolve to stay calm, testing him with a trial he had to pass for the little cub’s sake. He was not truly a cub, but his soul, right now, was as fragile as one. “Of course, little puppy, we only own ourselves. You are the only one that will ever own you from now on.” He vowed, making it as resolute as stone. 

Behind them, the two royals watched with wide eyes. M'Baku was not dumb. He knew what they likely thought. Every story of the Jabari told of their backwards ways. Every story told of their refusal of tech. But also, so many stories told that they were the keepers of what Wakanda forgot, of the time and people they once were. Of the rituals and temples lost to time and progress. And it was obvious that something was happening here. Something far deeper. It was obvious from their surprised scents that his calling the wolf cub a puppy made them both react. Likely the little King had seen the wolf in his herb given dream walks. 

Shuri, the little princess could seemingly no longer stay back. Her presence as a Beta scented with the proof of how she needed to sooth her brother- so impossibly old yet so broken and young inside right now. Her voice tried to crack but she was a beta, and she visibly wrapped that around herself like a mantle of calm. She swallowed and tried again, brushing the cub's hair back and soothing his forehead, wiping away the tear tracks. “Sleep, little wolf, you are safe now.” She manages to say, swallowing on anything else she wanted to say as his face turned into her touch like a starved kitten nosing for attention or food. It was only then that the omega had fully begun to relax, curling his own hand up to cradle over the huge man’s wrist, a lax and loose touch that he likely didn’t realize he had done.

The small form under his hands continued relaxing but the still damp brow furrowed, the will it took to muster asking a desperate question, asking in that slurred voice if there would be any more hurting. T’Challa broke from where he had been holding himself to the side, his own hand coming to rest on the cub’s now drying skin. “No, little brother. No more hurting. No more hurting others or being hurt, no more will others force you to be or do or say or think anything.” 

All three Wakandans stroke gently over the little omega's skin, and it becomes obvious that M'Baku underestimated the memory, or maybe the instincts of the Panthers. Perhaps they were not a complete lost cause. However, he resolves as that sweet face turns and he can see how once, and maybe once again, softness lined the cheeks and jaw before him. He can see how with time the little omega might find joy and peace and home. He will not let anything keep the little one from that peace and joy. No matter what it takes. And if that means convincing him to come to Jabari lands, then M'Baku will do everything in his power to soothe and woo this precious cub to grow strong with his tribe. 

It shouldn't pain his heart as much as it does to think about what might happen if, somehow, it means that he himself must leave, he knows he will do that too. No matter how that thought already claws at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously- do I food porn and sensation porn on food descriptions or not in Chapter 3/4? Lol Lemme know your thoughts on it.
> 
> Next up is Shuri and bath time, she and Bucky are strictly platonic, she doesn't really feel much for guys, and Bucky is most definitely her brother first and foremost- unless I get massive demands for her in here or something. I just don't do incest so it is T'Challah or Shuri- not both... lol


	3. Shuri bathes a puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did I hear you wanted platonic comfort and care? Of course I did.  
> Also Shuri is very definitely on the Bucky Barnes Defense Squad. She is also on the Alphas are Idiots squad and is slowly building up the groundwork for the Bucky Needs These Idiots To Stop Being Idiots squad. 
> 
> Warnings for platonic touches and platonic massages/cuddles while naked. Or mostly naked. Also more world building snuck in. As it does.
> 
> How did this chapter become nearly 5k words long? FFS Shuri is a champ for not drowning all three men.

Shuri watches while M’Baku shares a long, almost expectant look with her brother, slowly moving his arms to slide under their new little brother’s knees and shoulders. “We all need to bathe, and he needs skin contact. Isolation is as unhealthy for the Blessed as, what you fixed.” Shuri raises her brow at her brother, but their own reading seemed to reflect that. Everyone in Wakanda knew Omegas, no matter how gentle or weak their blessing, were the treasures of all the people. No matter the hardship or trial, an omega was supported by their entire community, especially as they became rarer than new meteorites the more dense the population became in cities. Touch, gentle familial and community touch, was part of building healthy communities and clans, however for Alphas and Omegas- it was even more important. The more the blessing- to either side of the scale, the more vital it became. She nodded to her brother, and they both helped keep Bucky’s legs level and easily carried while M’Baku cradled the rest of him to his chest. 

Shuri’s mind was awhirl as they walked towards the royal chambers, no one really thinking twice about it. Her mind picked at the idea of Bucky’s blessing being so strong. Not that anyone really remembered an omega as blessed as Bucky obviously was. Maybe it was the serum, and it was artificially enhanced omega presentation. However Shuri had done her research. Bucky was the only one to survive the HYDRA serum out of thousands upon thousands of patients in the war. The only one to not only survive but not immediately go insane in later years. And the colonizer, Steve, had smelled like omega in grief when she had met him, burnt wheat overlaying apple and cinnamon. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the outsider serum likely only worked on Omegas. It meant that Bucky, like so many outsider Omegas, had hid what he was, possibly all his life, at the very least hid it for years before he was captured. For as young as his soul had seemed in the dream T’Challah had told her about- it was entirely possible that his soul had never been fully nurtured- starved long before the War. She swallowed hard and squeezed the ankle in her hands. She would fix it. She would help Bucky, her little brother. 

The sound of M’Baku’s breath hitching refocused her attention. The sight of Bucky, his pale face pressed into the edge of M’Baku’s arm and side, nuzzling to the side of the massive pectoral he was cradled against was almost as interesting to watch as the unfiltered look of awe and reverence that unfurled across M’Baku’s face in that moment. It was adorable. The mountain of a man looked down at Bucky like he was poleaxed and having a religious experience all at once. There was tenderness and love, and a humble shock all chasing across his features, eyes soft and hands, so large they dwarfed the, frankly not actually tiny form they held, so gently. Bucky was small for an omega, only 5’11, however M’Baku was huge, no matter the orientation, a towering 7’1 while T’Challa was not much bigger than Bucky at a reasonable 6’2. Bucky made a low purring sound and both Alphas moved to join it with low rumbles, T’Challa bending close and whispering something soothing, his own face showing aching tenderness as both Alpha men bent their heads to be closer to Bucky. 

It was far too adorable a moment to be lost. Shuri couldn’t really help herself, she took a quiet picture and then noticed how Bucky smiled and crooned, even as out of it as he was. She had helped the team create the cryo storage chamber, she had done the research and pulled up the files. She knew all about the Winter Soldier, and every scrap she could find about Bucky Barnes and James Buchanan Barnes even before talking with him as much as she did.  
Shuri had little patience for colonizers, no matter their excuses, however. However James Buchanan Barnes was born to two people as far from the Colonizers as a pale boy could be. She had devoured information about the Jewish people, and then, on rumors, she read more and more about Romani people, and the time period he grew up in. She read about Steve’s early life and about the historian’s recreations, interviews. She read constantly, digging up more and more information on the two super soldiers, before they were soldiers. She knew in her bones from all that reading that Bucky needed a family, needed a home. That he was alone in ways that even the blonde colonizer wasn’t. Steve had a large clan, a family pieced together. Even if he had split it to bring Bucky to them- it did not change that he had a family again. Bucky could be part of that- but she also felt, knew, that Steve would never be able to rest on his heels. Steve would never have peace for more time than it took to find a new fight. 

Shuri had talked with Bucky, before Cryo, though at his own insistence he asked to do most of this talking remotely at first so he couldn’t present a danger to anyone. It had taken nearly a week to break him of that. Together they had walked through so many procedures with him, option after option, and it was painfully obvious with his every choice, that Bucky did not want to be a soldier anymore. That he had never wanted to be a soldier. That what Bucky wanted most of all was a family that was safe and happy. The outsiders could not give him that. But her family could. They would. It was blatantly obvious both Alphas were reacting to their omega, Shuri was a beta, so she couldn’t scent them. She didn’t need to though, to see the gentle way both men so carefully caressed the pale copper toned skin. The way both men crooned and soothed so gently while walking into the huge bathing chambers, the large hot spring bubbling away. 

It was just as obvious that both men were focusing purely on taking care of the Omega, and if she let them, they would bathe Bucky, and she could see now that both of them would do it without ever once perving on the sleepy puppy. And that set the worst precedent. Her dumb brother was already trying to act like just a brother to him, and that wouldn’t work. Bucky needed a family, yes, but he needed Alphas too. He needed a clan. And it was good to see her brother smiling, and it was hilarious to see M’Baku the fierce warrior so wide eyed and delicate with the little white boy. 

“You two set him on the bench and go get clean, I will get him ready for the spring itself. Shoo.” She flapped her hands at the two men, watching the lingering touches and long looks both men kept darting to the slumped and sleepy form they were gently bringing down to the bench, M’Baku ensuring that Bucky was aware of why he was being set down, leaning down to nuzzle Barnes hair gently “Little cub, come back to us, come listen for a moment.” He rumbled, kneeling by the large stone bench, worn smooth by generations of Panther Royalty sitting on it. 

Bucky looked more like a sleepy kitten than a boy, those eyes blinking open so slowly, staring up dazedly. M’Baku looked like his heart was growing too big for his chest, his eyes soulful as they stared at Bucky who already seemed more aware than at any point during the process today. “We are letting Shuri bathe with you, she is a beta, and you are safe with her. But we must go bathe as well.” He said it softly, and Bucky looked confused at that, brows drawing close before he turned his head a little, looking at where Shuri was smothering a giggle at the ridiculous men. M’Baku was being so serious and it was hilarious to her, if just to not be sad, that Bucky obviously had no clue how to process all of this. He looked lost and floundering a little, but at her mouthing “Alphas” a bit of understanding seemed to slowly fill his eyes, both brows drawing up. He looked at the two men hovering and then back at Shuri before drawling out in a low slow Brooklyn accent, “Ya seem awful worried, I promise not ta drown.” 

At that, M’Baku looked even more stunned, while T’Challa seemed a bit sheepish. Bucky rolled his eyes a bit, staring over the two men without fear, despite their size and proximity, but more with a resigned weariness and aching tiredness. It was obvious that he was about to say something else, however Shuri knew enough about the white boy to feel it would be self depreciating, and that also was not a good precedent to set. “I am going to record you two stumbling about in here if you two do not get moving.” She sing songed the last half, her grin growing as both men straightened. “Shuri,” T’Challa started to say as he finally stopped hovering. Shuri pressed her advantage, wiggling her phone as she chirped “I still might, it would be a funny video. I could title it Alphas too stupid to go bathe themselves. It’d be hilarious. I could pair it with some music.” 

M’Baku looked confused but Bucky at least seemed to get some of the reference, a rusty and shocked bark of laughter escaping him, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Shuri hid a frown, white skin wrinkled so quickly. However the laughter had the effect of getting the men’s attention, both Alphas looking to Bucky once more who shook his shaggy hair back in a little toss, chuckling out “Go, please, I want to get clean.” 

M’Baku nodded, and both T’Challa and he said at the same time, “Of course-“ breaking off and looking at each other all at once sizing each other up as if remembering the other was there, unconsciously sniffing and puffing up a little. It was perfect alpha posturing and she totally did not post the video clip she was making immediately. She planned to wait till one of the two was being obnoxious and then post it. “Smile for the camera!” She chirped, making T’Challa whirl around, stabbing a finger at her- “No, Delete that!” He tried to order, but it only made her grin “What was that- you want to stay so I post it now?” She bounced her hips side to side, grin tugging her cheeks up and scrunching her own eyes as Bucky began laughing again, the sound less shocked and more warm now. “You were going?” He prompted again, lounging back along the bench as if he had no cares, watching the antics with fondness in his eyes. 

Both men beat a hasty retreat, the fact that it seemed more for Bucky than because of her threat meant she definitely needed to get better pressure points for M’Baku, that or introduce him to social media so he could be properly horrified by the idea of everyone seeing him being a fool. Although, he had a strange sense of humor. He might enjoy it. She shrugged and shared a grin with Bucky once more. “So, not used to Alphas losing IQ points to try and curry a smile form you, hmm?” She walked closer to him, taking in the faint tremors from his arm where he propped himself up. She came up to his side and gently offered her hand, letting him decide if he wanted to take it or not. Take her help or not. 

Bucky looked at her hand and then up at her, then back to the hand. “You sure you won’t record the answer?” This was the man she could see hiding under all the fear and worry before. The man she could easily call brother. “Of course not. You are by far my favorite brother right now. Besides, if no one deflates their egos they won’t be able to fit into the springs.” Bucky looked startled by that declaration, unsure and awkward suddenly, his shoulders pulling forward as if to protect himself from a blow in an unconscious motion while he ducked his head to hide behind his hair. Shuri snorted, “Though you obviously are no smarter than him. You don’t even have to ask. Of course we meant it. We both swore you into our family. Adopted you to all our people. Now, are you going to continue being a stinky white wolf or come bathe with me?” 

Bucky was quiet a moment then gave a small nod, straightening up and taking her offered hand. “Well, I can’t make you look bad by smelling worse than I look.” “That’s the spirit!” She sang out, tugging him up and into her side as she brought him into the showers proper, the large basins for dousing water there as well. Bucky was in shorts and her own clothes were easy enough to get off. She eyed the tiled bench here, then his legs and declared “You are cleaning your privates yourself, and I am getting us both robes for later. You will leave your hair to me though- and we can do each other’s backs and legs.” Bucky sighed, but nodded. They moved him to the bench and Shuri showed him how to use the handheld shower heads, marveling a little at the dozens of different body lotions and soaps available, sniffing each container before picking one that smelled of sandalwood and cypress, with hints of vanilla, cacao and coconut. There was a salt scrub with more floral notes he also picked, and she left him to it after helping him kick off his shorts and sit on the shower bench. 

Shuri hurried in gathering robes and towels, as well as other things he might appreciate like combs and picks. She returned, shimmying out of her own clothes, grabbing the chunk of soap she preferred, a holdover from going to uni abroad, and scrubbed herself up hastily. While her family had never taught body shame to her, she had no real desire to be naked in front of M’Baku any time soon. Besides- she had a plan, and Bucky being the only one partially dressed would ruin that plan. She slid on her bikini easily. She tied it up and came back to Bucky, holding out the clingy cloth of a bathing suit for him as well. He eyed it dubiously. “Really?” He asked with an eyebrow up, his hand covering his, rather large, bits and embarrassment staining his cheeks red. 

Shuri really wanted to record this, but she knew that while it would embarrass T’Challa to be filmed and mocked, it might actually hurt Bucky, so all she did was smother a smile. “It’s that or leave it dangling out- clothes would leave too many fibers behind in the springs. These will not.” Bucky groaned but the steam wafting off of the hot springs was too tempting to ignore. “Fine.” He paused, looking at the cloth then scrunched his eyes closed and asked, as if pained, “Help me get that- thing, over my ankles and turn around. I can do the rest from there.” She grinned, moving the strappy swimsuit bottoms over his ankles and knees before turning around and letting him wiggle and pant and curse behind her. “For fuck’s sake, looks more indecent than bein’ naked. How do people wear these?” He muttered, then with a resigned note “You can turn around.” 

Shuri turned, and Bucky had his hand scrubbing over his face, rubbing there while he leaned against the wall, legs spread on the bench, thighs trembling with exhaustion still. She had to tamp down her glee as she looked over the sparkling fabric. Perfect, it fit. She had ordered it as a prank, but now it was working out for the new plan. Omega fashion was always a bit sexual, even in Wakanda. However these were from outside, and the fabric hugged over his hips, curving to accentuate the barely there softness of his lower belly and make the slight swell of his hips that much more pronounced. It came down the tops of his thighs easily enough, making them seem even more solid, the muscles standing out. She would bet a month’s fabrication time that they also made his ass look amazing. Definitely worth it. 

“It does seem a little tight- guess you should drape this over your lap for now.” She tossed him a bathing robe, the fabric water proof. He gave her this grateful look, eyes wide and that puppy dog sincerity returning. It was criminal how beautiful his vibranium hued eyes looked, and how expressive they could be. “No. Stop with the eyes. I just don’t feel a need to see your junk.” Bucky made a face at that but laughed, relaxing so quickly that it was only when the tension was gone that she realized exactly how tense being exposed had made him. 

Well. Damn. She would have to play the next part of the plan carefully then. “Now, I have done so much research about white people’s hair. Are you more towards curly naturally? Your mother had beautiful curls in later years.” She dropped the subject, distracting him again as she moved to tug him to the edge of the bench, snagging a shampoo she thought might be perfect for him, from the samples she had tested before. “Uh, kinda. My Ma’s hair was always a real mess of curls. I tend to have her thickness, but my Da’s waves.” She used her widest toothed comb to work his hair loose, picking through the bottom and working her way up to the top. “Good, you won’t frizz up from the steam then.” His hair was fascinating to her, and her fascination with his hair seemed to make him relax a little, and soon they were both talking about his sisters battles with frizz and curls.

He let himself be distracted by their words and the flood of unique new sensations for him. It was obvious to her how he was unused to this kind of touch as she kept combing his hair out, fingers and hands working along his scalp and neck. She set to wetting his hair from the bottom up, “Lean your head back” She softly said, her hands combing through his hair gently as she made sure it was all wet. Bucky did, eyes squeezing shut and hand clenching on the knob of his knee. She didn’t say anything about his returned tension, only cupping one hand over his brow and using the shower head to wet the hair along his crown, moving down each side and cupping his ears forward to not get water in them. Once it was over, Bucky was no longer tense, his leaned back pose letting her see the shock in his eyes, and the growing puppy like wonder. It was unfair how grateful he could be for some of the silliest things. It made her unreasonably angry and sad inside. That someone had hurt this man so much. That the outside could do this- she shook that off and focused instead on the moment, and her plan. “You are worse than a toddler. Like I would let water get in your eyes.” She poked his soft shoulder, rolling her eyes and making it a non-issue while she poured the thick creamy shampoo into her hand. His scowl was less real affront than it was bluster “Hey!” he started to squawk, but the squawk became a groan as her clever little fingers began to massage the cream into his hair and scalp. “That is- unfair. Distraction.” He mumbled, her fingers massaging his scalp. Shuri smirked and asked simply “Would you rather I stop?” “Oh please don’t?” He re-opened eyes that had fluttered shut, and if Shuri wasn’t about a hundred percent sure that this white boy was meant to be mates with her brother, she could almost see falling for those gentle pleading eyes. 

Shuri buried that thought with an eye roll, but set to massaging his temples, drawing new groans out of his throat while those piercing eyes closed. It was incredible how much this white boy was so beautiful and so strange at the same time. His skin was so pale, different. His hair was thick both with texture and the sheer amount of hair, but silky under the cream. It had give and lacked the strength of her other brother’s hair. His skin, flushed and face relaxed, glowed in the warm air like copper freshly molded, gleaming and bright, the flush giving it nearly the same rosy hue. His brilliant coral pink lips as he moaned, yeah it was fair to say they were different but had their own beauty. His nose was so narrow, and held a profile so foreign to her, yet she could see symmetry. For an outsider, for someone that might as well look like a colonizer- he was still beautiful. T’Challa was going to make an idiot of himself over this boy at every turn. It was going to be glorious. She grinned, and moved her hands up to cup his face while she rinsed and worked cream into his hair, moving to massage and gently scrub his face, the relaxation from before letting him do this without flinching or really stirring. 

It was with a gentle touch that she traced his cheeks, using a facial scrub to exfoliate his skin, shallowing the wrinkles in his forehead from frowning so often, smoothing the divot between his brows, massaging the skin of his jaw, keeping the touch light over the many scent glands there, but also ensuring every inch was well cleaned and all the old scents of fear washed away. She used a soft cloth to follow the scrub, whispering “That’s right, just relax.” She couldn’t purr or rumble like an omega or alpha could, but she could hum, so hum she did. As she massaged and exfoliated his shoulders and chest, then worked her way down his arm, his own purr began. It was a rattling thing at first, far more disused than his laugh, but soon it warmed up, thrumming lazy contentment through the air so thickly that even she could feel it affecting her. It rattled in her bones and made her so sad. Her father had been an omega, he fell in love with a Beta and never had eyes for anyone but her mother. It was a miracle that T’challa had not killed their mother being born, and it had been no easier when she was born. But the simple fact was that while mother had birthed them, their father was the one to cradle them when sick, to purr their fears away. It made her want to cry, the familiar feel, but so very much stronger. She sniffed hard and moved to massage his hand, working the joints of the fingers and the meat of the palm, before going back up to massage over the glands of his wrist and elbow. She kept the touches steady, working him to lean forward, bracing his head on her own belly as she worked over his upper back. He was heavy, and that purr rattled her very soul, as it thrummed through her ribs. But it was the farthest she had felt from sexual in her entire life. This wonderful omega, so tired and so long abused and hurt, unmade and remade, was focusing on giving her soothing and contented purrs. It was a reaction, but it was work to produce the purrs, especially after the training he had gone through. He was choosing to share them with her. It made her want to see him happy, always. 

“go ahead and lean on me, umninawa.” Bucky didn’t really react to her slip, just following her request to lean more of his weight onto her as she moved him to lay across the bench. She washed his sides and back, rubbing and massaging the glands under his arm and ever so gently along the glands that rested under his ribs, over the top of his hips, before moving down below the bathing suit to massage his legs and knees. She kneaded the muscles of his calf, and up to the glands along the back of the knee, small though they were, before moving down to his ankles. She took one foot and then the other, scrubbing many times with the salt scrub, making his feet as soft as his hand, which had gotten the same multiple scrubbing massage. By the end of it her little brother smelled only of tired contentment and sleepy enjoyment. Nothing sad lingered on him, nothing tense or troubled. 

Shuri gently washed off his body and then worked on washing off his hair, combing it and leaving a robe draped over his body as he snored faintly on the bench, relaxed enough to fall completely asleep. She smiled and moved over to wash and scrub herself before putting the next part of her plan in motion. 

Those idiots would not be all muddled from protective needs now, no she would ensure they had very different needs to worry about. And she was not going to let them get stuck into habits like avoiding the situation. It was time to make two Alphas very uncomfortable. She placed an order with the kitchens, and went to ping her umkhuluwa and hurry him along. She hid her camera, and set up the towels well away from the spa itself. She moved the large folding table over to the edge of the bath, where the padded reclining bench was, perfect for the second half of the Make Alphas Uncomfortable plan. She shushed the two alphas as they re-entered the main baths, but pointed towards the hot spring, ensuring in a few short motions that the two idiots would stay in the water, incidentally directly where the camera was pointing. Perfect. 

Shuri was entirely too happy, and let herself grin hugely as she went to her precious little brother and stroked his brow till he woke up. He blinked up at her, brows pulling into a curious look, but a tentative smile pulling his lips in reply to her joyous grin. “You ready to enjoy the spa now, umninawa?” She asked, and Bucky’s brow furrowed for a second before he laughed, taking her hand to sit up. “You do realize I am actually older than you, right? Like, in every way.” He asked, but was smiling, the tension of before still melted away as he left the robe behind and walked beside her. 

His eyes were on her hand where she had laced their fingers to swing between them, but hers, hers were on the two Alphas. They looked like twin gawping children, both having obviously swallowed their tongues as they stared at Bucky like men who had never seen a specialty omegan swimsuit designed to highlight all the things so very unique to male omegas. Then again, they probably were seeing it's like for the first time. She coughed and T’Challa started but still was gobsmacked. M’baku however managed to croak “I am glad your shower relaxed you, little cub.” 

Bucky was in far too good a mood to be very startled, he turned to look at M’Baku, assuming the two Alphas were also in swim suits, he simply snapped back in a thick Brooklyn accent, “I do have a name, pal, it’s Bucky, and unless you want to be “Mountain-Man” try it to use it at least some of the time.”

M’Baku’s eyes widened, before he grinned widely, laughing deep from the belly as he slapped the water and nodded, still laughing. By the time he had recovered, both Shuri and Bucky were climbing into the hotsprings, and T’Challa had recovered enough to breathe properly again instead of staring frozen like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming jeep. M'Baku's voice is still rounded with mirth as he finally speaks, eyeing Bucky with appreciation. “A very sharp tongue to go with your teeth, Bucky. It is good to have your words, little cub.” He grinned fiercely, however Shuri didn’t miss how the large alpha had shifted on his shelf seat, the milky colored mineral rich water flowing deeply enough to help hide his likely reaction to the earlier sight. 

This was going to be the best video she ever made. Seriously. She leaned back and settled into the stones to enjoy the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up is Food Porn and two Alphas nearly killing themselves choking on drool while an oblivious Bucky lounges beside the spa in a sinfully strappy pair of panties/swim suit bottoms that only makes his appeal that much more obvious, milky water dripping down his muscles... yeah and then we have the food porn on top of that. 
> 
> Curious if anyone minds me moving out of strictly one pov per scene style, because I want to do Bucky enjoying the sensations at the same time M'Baku is quietly dying from not stinking up the room or snapping at T'Challa who has FINALLY caught onto the "Oh wait, he smells like my perfect match/mate" clue by four. 
> 
> Also Shuri quietly dying from not cackling and making Bucky self conscious thus ruining the plan.


	4. Let him eat stew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuri shoots and scores with a slam dunk on setting her idiots up with each other without any of them really being the wiser, Bucky has a love affair with amazing Nigerian foods, and M'Baku tried to get angsty, thankfully he is completely not immune to the sex, I mean, eating in front of him. 
> 
> (Let me know if folks want T'Challa or M'Baku's POV (Or both) for the food porn sections. Leaning towards trying T'Challa, but he is still being a slippery bastard for giving me his voice... thoughts in notes please!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TONS of food porn after the break- very texture and eating oriented- so please be aware of your own needs. 
> 
> Also images of spiritual representations of Bucky's Winter Soldier era soul being severely injured wolf, so potential trigger for that.

M’baku did not know any time in his life that had presented more struggle than the sight of his perfect mate, of that beautiful flashing snark that had so delighted him just now, of being so close while he was naked and another Alpha that was also a perfect match sat next to him, equally naked. At least it was obvious to M’Baku that the king was finally aware of his attraction. However it was very hard to tell the territorial part of his instincts, to tell the Gorilla inside, that the other alpha should not be seen as competition. He had to remind himself that while animal’s spirits had always guided them, they were human, and human alphas should know better. The weird choking noise of the king was flushed out of his awareness by the way their cub had groaned lightly, rolling his head back as he sunk up to his neck in the milky water. It did awful things to M’Baku’s control, how his- the omega groaned as that girl suggested “Hey, Bucky, why don’t you try a stretch along the bench here? The edge of these rocks should let you really get any kinks left over from before out.” The way the mineral rich water slid over muscles, looking nothing less than sinful, had his eyes trailing over every inch of the pale form as first part of the large soft looking pectorals winked out, then part of the line of those defined stomach muscles. The way those thick thighs shifted as the incredibly flexible omega slid first one leg, then the other up along the shelf of stone that edged the bench, the beta encouraging him with little teasing comments, distracting the omega from the two Alphas, was a gift and also the worst thing the girl had done to M’baku.

M’Baku knew that if he were outside himself, he would be laughing till he choked at this poor stupid Alpha beside him, and the worse off king to the side. He was not outside himself though, so all he could do was focus on trying not to smell of pure lust and need. He should not be staring at him like this and acting like such a fool. Should not be acting like something he would not be, an Alpha that takes from an Omega instead of nurtures. 

M’baku struggled with himself, tearing his gaze away from the physical, to see the world of ancestors. Omegas were the gods own gift to humanity. Without the Blessing, humanity would have died in the long dry winter. He opened his eyes and felt winded once more. He could see it plain as before, this was not just any omega, this was- a Blessed Omega. The smell of him alone proved that, but the way in the sight of the spirits, his soul’s cub-like form glowed – it showed so much more than just his scent could have ever conveyed. Trials and suffering lined air around the cub’s outline, gleaming except for it’s torn and bloody paws, an animal that had survived incredible things, things that had killed it, and made it begin again. Had made it return to it’s core. He could see the second image anchored to the cub, huge bloody tar covered paws sharing space with those of the brilliant white paws, he could see the muck covered shaggy ragged wolf, easily a match for an lion, see the wounds more numerous than the remaining fur. He could see that that ghost had not actually left, that it lingered even after the treatment. That all that damage to the soul would never be fully removed, only muted. The hurt that the Blessed carried could be turned into an ancestor, a point of the past, for the renewed soul to grow from. It was humbling. It was rage inducing and enough to, with a bit of focus, begin to tame his desire and remind himself that this pale man-cub was not something to be devoured like a fish roasted in leaves. He was so much more, it was as awe inspiring as it was humbling to see. 

The lost tribes, some survived. The Wolves that went north, so long ago, had somehow kept going, kept some tiny parts of their past alive, for there was no other way this cub could have had such a complete form to return to, nurtured as it had been at some early point, without someone to guide him as a child. Panther’s tribe, was the only tribe of the planes that truly kept any solid form, the Golden Tribe staying closer to their ancestors by tradition. The River and mining and all those other tribes, had forgotten their animals and their past, had allowed technology and progress to remove them from who they were, from their past and true selves. Snakes still slithered but no more did they know why and when to bask or hide. Gazelles bounded, and Boars still rooted in the ground for roots, but their connection was nearly gone as well. M’Baku breathed a shaky breath, swallowing a lump of sadness and grief, anger at all the loss. Jabari had left the other tribes to grow ever apart. To protect themselves they stayed firmly in the mountains... but at what cost. Only the king beside him was as firm, his panther solid and radiating warm strength, tail bumping into his own Gorilla. M’baku really looked at him, and yes, he could see what made this man, this Panther King, so perfectly matched for them both- three tribes returning. together. Balanced. M’Baku closed his eyes again and breathed calmly, opening them again, gone was the panther and wolf, and back again was the physical world. Back again was the rich temptation of a happy and excited omega, and the heavy tangerine and jasmine musk of the king beside him, back was the weight of his body and the warmth of the water. M’Baku thought about how he should go gather clothes for himself and his fellow alpha, before what he was seeing finally processed. 

All of M’Baku’s hard work was being dashed to pieces. That horrible girl was grinning like a Hyena, looking too smug and happy by half as she waved a woman bearing the huge platter of food over to the table to depart. The omega was already in the process of rising from the water without a single care except getting to the food. His hair was streaming white rivulets along a muscled back that quite literally glowed in the light. The rivulets streamed down to the small of his back and along the grooves to the sides of hips wide and full of the promise that with enough meals, with time and care, such lush softness could bloom there. That life would be welcomed, that life would thrive in a valley so fertile. The straps of the awful suit cupped over the arch of the hips, draped along the sides of the thighs and cupped the globes of an ass so round and firm M’Baku desperately swallowed to keep from drooling. The flex of those globes, of the muscles of the back, of those thighs, so thick and strong like tree trunks, the hint of softness edging the outer lines of the thighs until with a push, a horrible terrible perfect undulation, both legs were spinning and lifting through the air, kicking off some of the water in a quick flick, making the calves, those feet those incredibly soft looking feet, glistening in the light, milky water dripping from toes and ankles even as a thick and strong arm worked as the pivot to bring the omega fully up onto the bench, sliding his legs to rest half splayed open, thighs cupping and cutting into edge of the swooping s of the reclining bench, before the girl piped up again, amusement in her tone “Bucky, no. You should relax, enjoy the soup and snacks, you missed two meals today, when you are done you can come back in. Then we can all go have dinner together later.” 

It was entirely unfair what the eye roll and fond look from Bucky towards the beta did to him, not even their target and focus. “Ya plan ta fatten me up, like a goose fer the new year. I just know it. This is revenge fer me calling ya Princess instead of doc before, inn’t it?” That thick accent did horrible things to M’Baku. Awful things. He swallowed hard, and then the vixen spoke up and made it so much worse. “The table top spins out, you can face me while you eat that way we can talk like civilized people instead of schmucks.” She said with a mock sniff and an obvious quote of Bucky himself at the end, prompting that long wavy cascade of hair to dip down over the shoulder-blades, the brassy column of that throat fully exposed and delighted joy and pleasure to curl out of the omega while he threw his own head back to laugh so hard he shook. His pecs bounced a little at the motion, and M’Baku was incredibly glad that T’Challa’s own whimper made his loud swallow seem quiet. A milky drop traced from the edge of the pec to the nipple, clinging and bouncing off of the hardened nub before finally bouncing free to splash on one of the flexing thighs as Bucky slowly calmed his laughter.  
~~~~~~~~ Graphic Food porn from here folks- Ye Be warned – also yes, these are all Nigerian dishes- :D Moi Moi and Okpa will be from M’Baku as they are Vegetarian/Pescatarian ~~~~~~~~~

Bucky was still chuckling as he looked at the table and gently pushed one side, then the other, delighting as the table easily spun on an inner track, lifting and moving over to him. It was ingenious, a simple design, like Ma’s old card table, the two sides folding down, but also like the Miller’s little booze cabinet, which even his Ma had admired. It wasn’t fancy future tech or crazy stuff out of fantasy. This was just plain old ingenuity. Things he could understand. “Yeah like us facin each other is gonna do so much about our civility,” he took a breath then grinned back at her while he drawled “Princess.” 

Shuri mock scowled and sniffed “Usisi to you. Now, get eating, you still owe me a foot massage afterwards.” Bucky laughed at that and raised a mock salute, then licked his lips as he leaned over the steaming plates and bit back a moan. The air was warm enough he didn’t even mind the water dripping down his back, and he could feel the spices in the soup burning his nose and mouth already. He groaned again and let himself savor the smell, then looked at the feast before him. There was a super thick red stew with large chunks of fatty fried meat in it, as well as what looked like large chunks of boiled eggs, it reminded him of dishes from his childhood- except it smelled so much spicier. His mouth watered, there was huge slices of fried yams, he had tried those before cryo, and the familiar sight of Asun, which he had also had in those days leading up to cryo. The juices leaking from the barbecued meat made his mouth water all over again, prompting him to suck in his lower lip. “Is the soup hotter than the Asun? Usisi, you aren’t trying to kill me, are you?” He teased, remembering how Sam and Steve had both cried and chugged milk after a few bites of the meal, sticking to the un-spiced puff puffs and the plain flat breads, while Bucky got to savor the entire platter of meat. 

Shuri had laughed so hard she had hiccupped at the two grown men crying like children, replaying the cameras clips while Bucky had told her about it in the small meeting they had after the meal. The replaying of Sam’s horrified “Man, I know you have a hollow leg, but that’s enough to kill a man!” a dozen times, making even Bucky crack a smile back then. Now, everything felt so much lighter. She raised a brow and teased back, “What, my Umninawa can’t take a little Obe Ata? It’s just pepper stew with meat and eggs, you will be fine. Have bread and yams with it. It might fill your hollow leg.” Bucky snickered and then shrugged, grabbing one of the onion filled flat breads, he tore off a chunk, nibbling it and moaning softly at the fluffy texture, full of lightly caramelized onions. He then took the larger portion of the bread and made a slight scoop out of it, bringing a large fatty chunk of meat up to his mouth and biting into it. The flavor burst across his tongue, spices like hand grenades exploding in his senses, but following the sharp snaps and pops of burning, was the rich thick fatty taste of perfectly fried meat, the juices spilling over his teeth while his lips seared from the red pepper juice on the meat that didn’t fill his mouth. He moaned and bit the rest of the way through the meat, halfway between ecstasy and torment, the burning tingling through him as he chewed, a bit of juice dripping down his chin, he could feel the tingle, but he couldn’t stop how his eyes fluttered shut as pleasure won out over pain. The meat tasted so good, the texture on his tongue just soft enough to smash apart in juicy swipes, the bread competed with the meat as the texture to win him over, his gums tingling and prickling, before he had chewed it and then swallowed. His throat had to work past the burn, but just like with the Asun with Steve and Sam, after the first bite the tingling moved from pain to something good- something satisfying and life affirming. He grinned sharp and wide, looking more like a predator than a fluffy lost white boy, the red pepper stew juice dripping nearer to his chin, he darted his tongue out, licking his chin clean with his long brilliant red tongue, breathing out a satisfied, slightly pained moan. “That was twice as spicy Usisi,” He gently chided, but hurried to take another bite, this time following it with fried yam, the flavor rich and mellow after the burn of the stew. He settled back in a loose sprawl, working his way through the massive bowl of soup, lips in a perpetual cycle of being smeared with brilliant ruby red stew and then licked clean, breathy moans and hums of delight escaping him as his eyes fell half mast with lazy pleasure like a well fed predator or a slightly drunk student. He purred slightly as he gathered the goat meat, sopping up the stew that remained with the meat, eating with his fingers direct so he had to chase the rich juices down his fingers, sometimes having to lick up from wrist to the inside of his palm and up to his fingertips, making his way at a devastatingly fast pace through the meat, before lingering on the peppered puff puffs and the large chunks of Shuku Shuku, the coconut and breadcrumb balls so crisp as they popped in his mouth, so sweet that he had to alternate between them and the sour Zobo, which dyed his lips an even more lurid red. He kept sucking at his lips, licking them as the tingle finally faded from them, replaced by the tangy cool feel of the hibiscus juice drink. 

Bucky rubbed lightly over the slight bump on his belly, eyes wanting to fall closed as the inevitable food coma started trying to settle in. He let his fingers trace lightly over the slight proof that he had probably, okay had, eaten a little too much all at once... but it was just so good, and his belly felt so nice, not pain, just full. Very full. He yawned lightly, lounging with the hot steam curling over him, and so relaxed that he didn’t really have an internal desire to move. He let his eyes fall closed, and savored. 

Shuri had watched it all with glowing eyes. She knew how Bucky got about food- how the whole world nearly fell away as he ate, the more complex the flavors or textures, the more he seemed to lose himself in the food. And there was no way the two Alphas were anything but riveted, she stifled a giggle, deciding to let the two men gawk their fill of the way the dozing, and still recovering, Bucky cupped his slight food belly bump, so unaware of what being an omega meant that he had no ingrained self consciousness over how that might look to others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHELP So some MCU world building snuck in. Basically Asgard goofed and showed up late to the whole Jotun invasion of Midgard thing. Humanity hit critical population and to keep the future from unraveling, to keep the balance of the tree- humanity was altered. Given a tool to recover. And the Jabari of Wakanda remember. They remember the truth and the past to never let it return. They also remember that when Humanity becomes a presence in the tree, the Blessings can be taken away.  
> They, remember the original reason outsiders were shunned. Though the reasons changed, the original reason is not gone. The Meteorite, the Omegas, the Alphas, the Heart Shaped Herbs... all are tied together, and all are at risk if the wrong outsider comes. When the wrong outsider comes. (Why no, I am not totally preparing for Infinity Wars, SHUSH.)

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone ever has problems with a lack of tags, let me know. I added a bunch but I know some things trigger folks that I won't think of. I will keep a tally of anything I think might directly make people trigger- like food focused content, but otherwise I hope everyone can enjoy this ride. 
> 
> PS: Yes Bucky is Jewish by blood, however he is not practicing. His mother was Jewish and his father Roma, his father died young and Bucky and his family struggled to make ends meet. I am not Jewish however my best friend for most of my early childhood was- and a lot of the memories Bucky will have later in the fic are lifted whole hog from my own experiences there with her grandmother.


End file.
